


bells keep on ringing

by thisisdefinitelynotme



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Mary who, Mistletoe, Moose, Sam Ships It, Season/Series 13, Team Free Will 2.0, and no one can convince me that he doesn't, jack ships it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-19
Updated: 2017-12-19
Packaged: 2019-02-16 23:28:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,729
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13064400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thisisdefinitelynotme/pseuds/thisisdefinitelynotme
Summary: “Actually, I just have a question for this young lady here.” Cas crouched down, making himself eye-level with the girl. “Why do you keep ringing that bell?”She giggled. “Silly! Don’t you know? Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings!”Or, the one where there are some traditions Cas doesn't appreciate and some that he does.





	bells keep on ringing

**Author's Note:**

> Let's just pretend that the last couple of episodes didn't happen, shall we

So we sing carols softly, as sweet as we know   
A prayer that our burdens will lift as we go  
Like young love still waiting under mistletoe  
We'll welcome december with tireless hope  
  
Let our bells keep on ringing  
Making angels in the snow  
May the melody disarm us  
When the cracks begin to show

\- "Snow", Sleeping At Last

 

It was a run-of-the-mill ghost hunt that led the four of them to a quaint snowy town one week before Christmas. This was exactly the kind of place on the front of every holiday card that Dean’s ever seen: the town square was lined with small business shops outfitted with lights, ornaments, and garlands; snow fell softly and slowly, covering everything in a layer of pure white; children were in the process of building a snowman; and, central to it all, was a massive tree likely decorated nicely but was obscured by a white snow coat.

It actually put Dean, the biggest Scrooge of them all, in a Christmas mood; hence the reason that the day after the hunt, rather than go straight back to the bunker, he dragged them all to a Christmas festival held in the town.

It was honestly nice to be in the midst of something as pure as this. Children, teenagers, and adults alike were pelting each other with snowballs. A man dressed as Santa Claus listened as kids told him what they wanted for Christmas and elves entertained those waiting in line. All of this was encased in Christmas tunes that almost seemed to Dean as though they were coming directly from the sky above.

It only took five minutes for Dean to be convinced that he never wanted to leave. For one, his family was safe and together, and _growing_ with the addition of Jack, who was absolutely mystified by these human customs that were _Christmas_. For another, they all seemed, believe it or not, actually happy. Sam jokingly bought, and was now wearing, a pair of moose antlers that had red baubles dangling down. Jack was enjoying everything with the same innocence of a young child (which, technically, he was), asking constant questions in an attempt to understand and smiling at these strange traditions. Cas, meanwhile, wore this expression of pleased contentment; he wasn’t quite smiling, but the ever-present lines around his eyes were mostly smoothed out, giving his face a soft, youthful look.

Yeah, Dean was having a great time here.

After Jack’s sixth question (“But isn’t it considered trespassing if Santa enters those houses without permission?”) Dean decided he had had enough for the moment, so, leaving the kid with the moose and dodging a couple of poorly thrown snowballs, he grabbed Cas and pulled him toward the stores.

It was nice to spend this time with Cas, just the two of them, neither in any current mortal danger. Weeks had passed since the angel’s last death and subsequent resurrection. Every time Dean closed his eyes he saw the blade pierce Cas’ chest, the wing marks, the flames as they burned his body; every time he opened them he saw brilliant blue eyes, full of life, just like the being to whom they belonged.

Dean didn’t believe in miracles, but he might just make an exception this time.

The first store they entered was, in Dean’s professional hunter opinion, one of the actual _cutest_ things he’s seen in his day (after Cas, of course, not that he’d _ever_ say that out loud). Floor to ceiling, and multiple shelves in between, was covered in trinkets, knick-knacks, figurines, and Christmas decorations. In the corner was stationed a large tree so smothered with ornaments – presumably for sale – that hardly an inch of the actual tree could be seen. Behind the counter stood a middle aged blonde woman in a red sweater and Santa hat; sitting in front, in a tiny rocking chair, was a little girl, so closely resembling the woman that she could only have been her daughter, who rang a small silver bell about every ten seconds. The woman smiled a warm friendly smile in greeting when the two men entered her store.

Castiel squinted his eyes in that familiar way that made Dean’s heart clench. “Why does that little girl keep ringing the bell, Dean?” he asked, tilting his head with the same kind of childlike curiosity he exhibited so many years ago.

“I don’t know,” Dean replied, intrigued as well. “Wanna ask her?” Cas nodded, and the two approached her and her mom.

“Hi!” the mother exclaimed pleasantly. “How may I help you boys?”

“Actually, I just have a question for this young lady here.” Cas crouched down, making himself eye-level with the girl. “Why do you keep ringing that bell?”

She giggled. “Silly! Don’t you know? Every time a bell rings, an angel gets its wings!”

Just like that, it felt to Dean as though a switch had been flipped. One moment, the atmosphere was light; the next, the tension radiating off of Cas could have been sliced with a dull butter knife. Cas straightened up, back stiff as a board, and Dean noticed that the stress lines around his eyes were back just that quickly. His pink lips were tight as well (not that the hunter was looking at his lips or anything).

“My daughter has this… fascination, I’d call it, with angels,” the mom continued, completely oblivious. Dean would’ve given his right arm for her to stop talking as he saw Cas’ body become more tense by the moment. “She’s the one who picked out this tree topper.” And she gestured to the fir in the corner of the shop.

It was topped, of course, by an angel that Dean didn’t notice before. But this wasn’t the typical lady-in-white angel; no, this figure was clearly male, wrapped in silver robes, with massively detailed silver wings protruding from behind. But Dean wasn’t too focused on the figure’s wings. No, he was momentarily captivated by his noticeably blue eyes. That is, until he looked to where his own blue-eyed angel wrapped in a trench coat should have been and instead saw an empty spot and the door to the shop swinging closed.

“It was nice meeting you, ma’am.” Dean tipped his head toward the woman, slapping on his Fake Smile™, and began backing out of the store. “He just – he – uh, had a, uh, a – a cat named Angel. It didn’t end very well.” _Smooth Winchester. You lie for a living, you coulda done better than that._ “Anyway, happy holidays, ladies.” With that, he all but ran after Cas.

A ten minute walk later (with or without wings, Cas could disappear when he wanted to), Dean located the angel in an unused, secluded corner of the square, perched on a snow-covered bench, elbows on his knees and head in his hands. Dean approached, snow crunching underfoot, and wiped away some of the snow. He took a seat next to Cas, who did not stir at the hunter’s appearance.

Dean’s never been one for discussing other people’s feelings, but this time he’d allow it. “Wanna talk about it?”

“No,” came the muffled response.

Well. Apparently Dean’s the one doing the talking this time. “Cas, if this is about the angels falling, you gotta know that that wasn’t your fault, man. It’s ancient history -”

“Did you know that when all angels die, they go to the Empty?” Cas interrupted, picking his head up and facing Dean, who was struck by the profound pain in his eyes. “When I woke up there – when the cosmic entity told me that, I thought… I thought I was going to spend the rest of eternity being tortured by those angels, since I was the one who put most of them there.” He sighed and shook his head. Dean wanted to offer some kind words, though he wasn’t quite sure what to say. “And you know what I’ve learned since I have been back? The angels, their population is the smallest it’s been since Creation, and that’s my fault.”

“’ _Their’_ ,” Dean repeated softly, almost to himself.

“What?”

“You said ‘their population’, not ‘our’. You’re still an angel, Cas.”

“No, Dean,” he replied, shaking his head. “I may not be fully human, but I haven’t been an angel in a long time.”

“You’ll always be an angel to me.” With that, Dean smiled softly at Cas, _his_ angel, and the two shared a moment of prolonged eye contact. “Besides, despite everything you’ve ever done, you’re still miles ahead of any of those other winged dicks.”

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said seriously.

“All this angel business, we’re gonna figure out exactly like we’ve always figured out everything else.” The hunter placed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed slightly. “I’m so glad to have you back, Cas. I can’t – I can’t put into words how much I missed you.”

“I missed you too. When I was awake there, I knew I needed to come back for you. With you.”

“And in time for the holidays, too.” Belatedly Dean realized his hand had begun moving in small circles on the angel’s shoulder.

“I haven’t gotten you anything yet.”

“You being here, with us, with _me_ , alive, is the best gift there is.”

Cas, seemingly too overcome with emotion to respond, placed his hand on Dean’s thigh with thanks. Dean felt every square inch of warmth that permeated the leg of his jeans.

He wasn’t sure what made him break eye contact with Cas in favor of looking up; but he did, and he saw, for the first time, the mistletoe dangling over their heads. And, really, it just wouldn’t be fair to break a tradition in such a spirited town as this one. Thus, Dean placed the hand that wasn’t already on Cas’ shoulder on his rough jaw, bringing their heads closer together. “I love you, Cas,” he breathed in the decreasing space between them.

“I love you too, Dean. Kiss me.” And, just like that, they were.

\------ 

“Is this what you expected to happen, Sam?”

“Yes, Jack. You did a good job,” Sam replied happily, fifteen feet away from where the nephilim created the mistletoe over the still-smooching pair.

“What does this mean for them? Are they a couple?”

“Well, let me tell you about the birds and the bees, and about the wonder of noise-cancelling headphones…”

**Author's Note:**

> happy holidays, friends


End file.
